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In the last two weeks, the tragedy of 12 boys and their trainer trapped in Tham Luang Nang No, a cave deeply buried under the mountains that form the border between Thailand and Burma, has upset the public world. a football team that also steeped in outdoor adventures with the charming nickname the "wild pigs" ("mu pa") – were finally saved on Tuesday just at the start of the monsoon, causing more rains and more d & # 39; flooding. [19659003] A store model used as a votive image for Jao Mae Nang No, the guardian spirit of Nang No Cave. Photo Credit: Andrew A. Johnson "title =" A store-store mannequin used as the votive image for Jao Mae Nang No, the guardian spirit of Nang No Cave. Photo credit: Andrew A. Johnson "itemprop =" contentUrl "/>
I first visited Nang No Cave during the 2007 rainy season with my partner, for my book project Ghosts of the New City While the current attention has focused on the flooded pbadages, the trapped children and their heroic rescuers, as I've found, there are many more to this story.
Nang No Cave
Its entrance is wide, like a door of the cathedral, and during the rainy season the humidit pouring in as steam. It looks like the gateway to another world. In some ways, this is the case
I started the rocky descent to the entrance, drawn by its vast expanse and emptiness. Only my companion, having listened better to the sign at the entrance forbidding entry during the rainy season, reminded me. I came back reluctantly.
I was right to retreat. As schoolchildren have discovered, during the rainy season, water levels in confined areas of the cave can increase dramatically, trapping future explorers in the interior. So, in the faces of the trapped kids, I can see a little bit of myself, if I had gone on.
But I spent a lot of time in other caves in the area, interviewing religious and local guides on how people in the area understand the power of caves and other sacred sites, and what is their role in North Thai mythology?
Lords of Places
Just south of Nang No Cave and about an hour north of Chiang Mai City, capital of Northern Thailand, is Chiang Dao Peak. This is an impressive mountain, which rises straight from the rice fields, with steep drops on most sides. And, like many such mountains in the area, there is a cave that sinks into his heart.
The local chronicle and the oral legend vary on the exact history of the place: Some say that the cave was the home of the demonic giants – "yaksha" – who were nonetheless ruled inside the cave by a noble king. Others have a noble ruler melting the kingdom of Lanna (northern Thailand) and then retreating into the cave for his kingdom to fall into disarray.
My favorite story has a lord of northern Thailand – Jao Luang Kham Daeng, the burnt copper lord – who was deceived by following a beautiful woman in the cave, where he was later devoured by the spirits at the # 39; inside. However, in his death, according to one version, it became his rule.
In each of these stories, the cave becomes the home of a powerful but sometimes dangerous spirit, which keeps the northern Thai region safe, prosperous and healthy. As long as the spirit and dangerous power of the mountain are respected.
It could be inferred that the caves of northern Thailand have little to do with Buddhism. But religion in Thailand and especially in the North is, as pointed out scholars like Pattana Kitiarsa, Erick White, Justin McDaniel and many others, a mixture of different influences: a belief in the power of people and special places, a respect for Buddhist teachings and a model of royal power based on the old Hindu traditions of the region.
The caves of northern Thailand are places where these religious traditions mix: There are shrines to the Buddha, Hindu hermits and the spiritual lords of the mountain. , all in the same space.
These, as some might expect, are not three distinct traditions. They mix, especially in cave legends. For example, the caves of Sri Lanna National Park, between the caves of Chiang Dao and Nang No, would be the home of two princesses who hid after the destruction of their kingdom.
They sought refuge in a cave and the Buddha Hearing their supplications, they designated a monstrous ghost to keep them safe – a ghost that persists, according to legend, today. Thus, royalty, Buddhism and spirits combine in one story.
Places of Danger and Possibility
Caves are key spaces – an intermediate space. These are openings to another world, one that is shrouded in darkness, difficult to access, and, as the story of the 12 boys shows, it is often hostile to humans
. In Thailand, these nature spirits are often women and, in return for Buddhist monks, offer their worshipers something that Buddhism can not offer: love, money and others things of this world that the monks do not care about. At the same time, they constitute a potential danger if they are despised.
As such, the sacred caves of Thailand are places full of power, but also full of dangers. Such places, as I describe in my book, often have annual rituals to ensure that spirits provide the village in the future.
In many, spirits acquire a somewhat ferocious appearance. After all, they are the leaders of an inhospitable natural world that must be tamed before it can be useful to humans.
This recognition of the danger of nature is a tragedy that is played out in the rituals of the region, a number of which I have participated in my research. In Chiang Mai, for example, each year, the local population has a tradition in which two mountain spirits possess two human mediums, who in turn devour a raw buffalo and drink its blood, before traveling to the Buddha and visiting the Buddha. to help the city
The story of the 12 saved boys is then that which can be read at many levels. For some, it is the story of the heroism of the rescuers against an inhospitable environment. For others, it is a story that emphasizes the Buddhist piety of the team coach and the power of Buddhist prayers on the mountain spirits.
In my opinion, such ideas of danger and power were always part of the liminal spaces of mountain caves. The stories of spiritual lords under the earth reflect both human fascination and human fears.
This story first appeared in The Conversation.
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